


under, over

by whittler_of_words



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Hopeful Ending, Post-Pacifist Route, Second Chances, Spoilers - Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a pot in their hands.</p>
<p>“...No.” Even as a flower, Flowey isn’t much smaller than Frisk; the child is still short. He still has to look up anyway. “No, no, don’t you dare, Frisk, I’ll kill you, I’ll tear you apart, I’ll tear everyone you love to shreds-- back off!”</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Flowey the Flower sees the sun for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	under, over

The patch of grass, when Frisk retraces old steps to find it again, is empty.

“Well, well,” rasps a familiar voice behind them. “If it isn’t my favorite _imbecile_.”

For all that this is who they came for, seeing Flowey sneer at them through the brush still hurts.

“What do you want?” He scowls. “To rub your victory in my face? Don’t bother.”

His expression falters when they smile. Frisk drops the bag on their shoulder to the ground and kneels next to it, opening it up and carefully setting the objects in it aside.

“I bet you were expecting _him_ , weren’t you. Well, guess what. He’s gone. Forever!” Flowey watches Frisk warily, unable to see what it is they’re doing when Frisk’s back is turned, their body blocking the way. “He’s never coming back. So just run away to your happy little group of friends and leave me alone, okay?”

Frisk turns around.

There’s a pot in their hands.

“...No.” Even as a flower, Flowey isn’t much smaller than Frisk; the child is still short. He still has to look up anyway. “No, no, don’t you _dare_ , Frisk, I’ll kill you, I’ll tear you apart, I’ll tear everyone you love to shreds-- back off!”

Frisk stops where they’d taken a step forward. Flowey can see now, with Frisk not standing directly in the way, a little shovel, and a bag of soil. There’s his father’s watering can. Flowey begins to shake.

“No,” he says, one last time, and pulls himself under the ground by his roots.

Frisk looks down at the barren space where Flowey had been seconds before. They’d told Toriel that they needed to do something, and it might take a while, and even though Toriel had been understanding, Frisk just hoped it wouldn’t take too long; some of their friends weren’t as patient as they were. Especially when Frisk’s safety was potentially on the line.

Not that they’d told anyone exactly what they were coming down here for. Frisk had a feeling that Sans knew, anyway.

Sighing softly, Frisk turns back to their bag and begins to put everything away. They take their phone out when it beeps; a status update from Alphys.

_Madoka Magica looks so cute!! marathon with the gf ^_^ and papyrus too i guess lol_

There’s a picture of Alphys and Undyne in their pajamas, Undyne’s arm hooked around the scientist’s waist and the other slung around Papyrus’s neck, and Frisk smiles before slinging their backpack over their shoulder.

They have a long way to go.

  
  
  


Frisk tracks Flowey through Snowden. Across the Waterfall. At one point they think they hear Flowey laughing at them from the other side of Alphys’s old lab and spend nearly an hour hiking all the way around, burning themselves on lasers several times in an attempt to push past the few still-active puzzles.

Flowey is always gone before they get there.

_oh no_ , says Alphys’s next status. _i have made a mistake lmao!!_

Travelling through the Underground hadn’t been so difficult the first time around. With all the monsters gone, and all the buildings locked, there’s nowhere for Frisk to get food or rest up. They’d brought one of Sans’s hot dogs, and a good luck slice of pie from Toriel, but neither of those last very long. Frisk, finally, exhausted and missing home, thinks to check one last place before they go back to start looking all over again.

The throne room has never had any doors to lock.

Flowey doesn’t even turn around when Frisk stops in the doorway. “Please. Just leave me _alone_ ,” he whines, his petals curling towards the corner he’s facing in a flower’s imitation of a hunch. It’s almost like he’s put himself in time-out.

Just like this entire ordeal has almost been a game of hide-and-seek, Frisk thinks.

“Just stop,” Flowey says when Frisk unzips the backpack, sounding almost as tired as they feel. “Why are you doing this? To help me? Fool. I’ve told you, I’m beyond helping. I’ll kill you and everyone else the second I have the chance, until you have no choice but to reset. And you _know_ that. So just-- _stop_ , stop trying.” When Flowey turns to face the small human, his face is Asriel’s. “Stop being so _determined_.”

Frisk hesitates, just for a moment, but the shovel is already in their hands. They both know Frisk won’t give up. Frisk steps over. Flowey’s petals wilt.

“Watch the roots,” Flowey snaps, but otherwise stays silent as Frisk gets to work. The small, reassuring smile Frisk gives him only has a little bit to do with it. Flowey’s just trying not to show that, for the first time in a while, he is scared.

This has never happened before.

At least, not that he remembers, and isn’t that all that matters in the end?

Flowey tries his best not to tremble as he is decisively uprooted. Soft soil is already waiting in the pot, soft hands settling him into the dirt, and it sinks in that, like this, Flowey has nowhere left to go. Nowhere left to run. All there is is wherever Frisk takes him.

“I know what you’re doing.” There’s some desperation in Flowey’s voice as Frisk picks him up and begins the long trek back. “You just want to show your family how weak and helpless I am. _Look at the pathetic little flower!_ ” Flowey’s face turns into an imitation of Frisk’s, all squinted eyes, before turning back. “You just want to watch me _suffer_.”

The look Frisk gives him at that is pitying, and Flowey looks away.

Frisk has to stop to rest before they can leave. The hum of old save points echoes in their fingers, and Flowey smiles like he knows -- of course he does. “What’s the matter?” he asks. “Realizing you’re just going to end up starting all over again eventually anyway?”  
  


Frisk shakes their head, and stands from where they’d been leaning against the wall. Not far to go now. Flowey’s smile grows more stilted with every step.

When they get to the exit, Flowey can’t stay silent any longer.

“Please just put me back,” he says, leaning away from the doorway as if he could stop Frisk in their tracks. “I don’t belong up there. No one _wants_ me up there. Everyone will hate me and you’ll end up bringing me back eventually where there’s no one for me to hurt and I-- Frisk, please, _don’t. Please_.”

Frisk hugs the pot to their chest. They know Flowey isn’t afraid of leaving, not really, and it’s not even that he’s afraid everyone will hate him.

He’s afraid they _won’t_.

Frisk tells Flowey that they’re never leaving him again, and steps through the door.

  
  
  
  


“You hate me,” Flowey whispers. Frisk sits on the peak of Mount Ebott, Flowey’s pot cradled in their lap. The sky is lightening with the pre-dawn. It won’t be long until there’s enough light for Frisk to make their way down, now.

_papyrus + undyne cried like babies and now they’re furiously making spaghetti Oh No_

“All this time, I thought I’d be okay with being left down there. I could handle it.” Flowey is quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know what to do.”

Frisk pats the side of the pot gently as they kick their feet over the ledge.

“You’re too nice,” Flowey starts. He twists to glare at Frisk. “You’re going to get yourself hurt. You already _have_. How many times have you died to get the perfect ending?” Flowey barely waits for the answer. Maybe he already knows Frisk has lost count. A bird calls, somewhere. “I don’t understand why you’re insisting on giving me this chance when you know I’m going to throw it back in your face. I don’t _understand_ , it-- it’s--” Flowey chokes on his words for a second. “It’s stupid!” Flowey looks behind Frisk toward the entrance to the mountain, wishing desperately that Frisk would just throw him back down. At least the Underground is familiar. Frisk pats the pot again, and Flowey grumbles.

Another pat, more insistent this time. Flowey looks up at Frisk. “What.” Frisk points behind him, out past the peak. Flowey frowns. “What, what is it--”

Flowey turns around.

“Oh.”

It’s the sun.

Flowey remembers those last few minutes as Asriel, standing vigil by the grave. He’d thought of Frisk, his mom, his dad, everyone standing on the surface and watching the sun rise for the first time. He’d been...glad. Glad for them, that they would finally be free. Then, with the last of his power depleted, he’d reverted back into a flower, and all that happiness had turned ugly and bitter. He’d hated them for it. He’d been _jealous_. He’d cursed their names and reached over and over again for a power that wasn’t his anymore, hoping to rip every good thing from their grasps.

Now, though. Now he can sense something like warmth on his petals, slowly sinking into every inch of him as the light steadily grows. It’s...

He doesn’t know what this feeling is.

He doesn’t know when he started to cry.

Frisk’s arms curl a little tighter around the pot. It’s not a hug -- not like the one they’d given him before, when he still had his body, glorious and warm -- but it’s something, and this time, when Flowey smiles...

He means it.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this [art](http://creepyknees.tumblr.com/post/131157670829/i-dunno-if-this-would-count-as-an-au-or-not-but)!!! 
> 
> undertale more like underhELL AMIRIGHT LMAO


End file.
